


Something to Prove

by velvethood (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pyro Accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/velvethood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ashton, he showed you his new song.” And okay, Calum doesn’t need to explain it any further for Ashton to know what that means. Michael is always so reluctant to show the words in his head, because they’re a little darker and deeper and colder than the other boys’ writing, but Michael came to <i>Ashton</i> without a second thought. He knows what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Prove

**Author's Note:**

> So this monster took around about 3 weeks, and I put off a ton of work to get it out because I was so inspired. This was a beauty to write (and I lowkey wish someone else wrote it so I could read it but woe is me lmao). So much love to everyone that listened to me whine about this, especially [Danielle](http://cashtontrash.tumblr.com/) who encouraged me a ton and beta'd this mess, thank youuuu ♡
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Any mistakes are my own, I don’t own anybody, I don’t think these feelings are real (um well) and I hope you enjoy the pain that’s to come. 
> 
> **WARNING:** Michael’s accident features in this, so please please read the scene carefully if you’re sensitive. It’s quite clear where it is if you want to skip it ( _June, 2015_ ) or if you want to know a little more before you read drop me an ask on tumblr. Further warnings for swearing and sex.
> 
> Title from Airplanes by 5 Seconds of Summer which is the entire inspiration for this fic :)

_February, 2015_

They’re in Japan and Ashton hasn’t seen Michael this happy in, well ever. It’s nice, endearing even, the constant smile that’s on his face and it’s even better that Ashton doesn’t have to _beg_ to get Michael out of the hotel. In fact he leads the way, clad in a denim jacket, into the car as they drive to a nearby restaurant. None of them have a clue about it, only that it’s been recommended to John and that’s gospel enough for them to try. Dave and their crew are in the car behind as per usual, and the four of them settle into a quiet silence that’s been common every time they drive down the brightly lit Tokyo roads.

“It’s still so fucking amazing.” Michael breathes, leg knocking against Ashton’s as if he needs to get his attention somehow, like he doesn’t have it a good 100 percent of the time. Ashton doesn’t say anything, hums in agreement and knocks his leg back. Michael turns briefly, gives him a shy smile in realisation before looking back out of the window. Ashton’s grateful to have got a split second of Michael’s stare when he knows how much Tokyo means to him.

Instead, Ashton leans to look at the other two boys sat in the seats in front. Calum and Luke are sharing headphones, but Luke’s playing around on his phone while Calum follows Michael’s suit, forehead pressed against the window as he stares at the twinkling embers that blur with the car’s speed, painting the night. Ashton can imagine the way Calum’s eyes flick back and forth as he tries to take everything in, nothing like anything he’s seen before. Because it is amazing, Japan of all the places in the world, and playing a gig of their own for that matter. It doesn’t seem real.

He falls against the back of Calum’s seat after deciding not to disturb the two. Michael though, he’s still looking out of the window, but from this angle Ashton can see the way the neon signs reflect in his eyes and it looks like shattering glass. It’s beautiful. Ashton doesn’t think he’s ever seen Michael look so beautiful than in Japan, so in his element, and he lets his hands sink into Michael’s purple hair, pale from countless washes. Ashton thinks it’s pretty, like Michael and his eyes, and loves the way Michael sinks into his hand before turning to kiss his palm. 

It’s normal, Ashton will say, because it _is_. They’ve been doing this for so long. The other boy doesn’t even look at him when he sinks his head even further into Ashton palm, burying his face and nuzzling gently. Ashton doesn’t think anything of it because they do things like this, he and Michael; the feeling in his stomach leaves him content and so does Michael’s smile. That’s all he cares about.

It’s no surprise that once they get to the restaurant Luke picks the first free booth he sees, because Luke doesn’t really care for details and he’s laidback enough to not get hung up on the minor things. It’s also no surprise that Michael kicks up a fuss.

“Look, there’s cool robots over there, we have to sit closer.” He shouts over the music, pointing to a corner with a small stage where said robots stand, jamming on equally metal instruments.

“But here’s big enough for all of us, Michael.” Luke tries to reason, sliding up the giant booth.

“I want to see the robots! Look they’re playing fucking instruments.” He reiterates like they can’t see, and Ashton keeps silent, not wanting to wind anyone up.

“Michael, there’s barely space there we’ll have to sit separately.” Calum helps, but he doesn’t sit down. Ashton watches with bated breath because he knows what’s coming.

“Separately but with robots serenading us?” Michael argues, like it isn’t even debateable. “Ashton, tell them!”

“The robots are pretty cool.” Ashton says immediately, and Luke and Calum roll their eyes simultaneously. It would be funny if he didn’t feel guilty, and they all know exactly how this is going to end.

“See! Come on Ash, even if it’s just us we’ll eat and have a good fucking time.” Of course, it isn’t just them because everyone follows Ashton, and Ashton follows Michael, so they end up sitting as a four but the rest of the crew split up and sit a bit further away. Michael’s at the front with Ashton beside him, arm around the back of his chair as he cheers while winding noodles around his fork. 

There’s no hard feelings, there never are because it happens so often, but Ashton ignores it when he catches Calum looking at him and he can’t understand the look he sends his way. Except he can. Michael turns to say something but sees Ashton and Calum looking at each other, and they all go quiet. Ashton frowns and looks away, and it feels a little bit like embarrassment but he’s trying to make his face blank.

Ashton sits back, leans so that Michael’s fingers brush the bottom of his neck. He pretends he can’t see Michael staring at him.

\---

_March, 2015_

He wants to say it’s the older brother thing, and being the oldest in the band. He even wants to say he only does it to keep peace but in all truth he knows it’s only Michael that gets to have his way. Every single time.

“Why does he always win?” Calum whines, watching Michael slurp on the last ice pop. They’re back in LA and it’s absolutely sweltering out even though it’s only March, and they’d all been desperate for something cold but there’d only been one frozen good left. They’d all yelled as Ashton held onto it, trying to be fair but Michael only had to give him those eyes before he’d handed it over.

“He doesn’t.” Ashton tries to reason, looking up at the boy sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen, happily smirking at Calum as he licks at the melting parts. Ashton definitely looks away when Michael wraps his legs around him, pulling him closer.

“He does.” Luke argues back but the loss is forgotten, the blonde wandering outside for a swim. Calum is about to follow suit when he turns swiftly and that look on his face is back, the one he’d been sending Ashton for weeks. 

“Why are you so whipped Ash?” He asks, calm and curious, as if it’s nothing important.

“I’m so fucking not.” And it’s a tad too sharp, too defensive, and Calum raises an eyebrow at the tone like he’s unsurprised. Ashton feels Michael’s legs drop, and Calum’s eyes move to Michael before shooting back to Ashton so quickly he’s not sure it even happened. Calum follows Luke outside, and Michael slips off the island and up the stairs. Ashton doesn’t have to look back to know Michael left without another glance his way.

It’s hours later and Ashton had headed to bed early with claims of extreme tiredness but he’d really wanted a break from them all. He’s not been dreaming much when he stirs, fidgeting as he wakes up but it’s hazy in a way that can’t have been natural. He understands why when he hears an urgent call of his name from behind him. “Ash?” 

He turns on his back, sheets riding down his bare torso in time to watch Michael crawl into the bed. He’s got a baggy, worn Led Zeppelin long sleeve and Ashton can feel his legs are bare when he moves in closer, resting his face in Ashton’s neck. He’s got sweater paws as he places a hand on Ashton’s chest. “Heads spinning.”

The older boy knows what that means in Michael talk, knows that he can’t switch his mind off enough to sleep. “It’s okay babe, I’m here. Do you need to talk about it?”

“No, just, talk to me.” Michael says, rubbing his face into Ashton’s neck.

“Okay. Well I’m hanging out with Bryana tomorrow.” Ashton, in his sleep hazed mind, doesn’t realise what he’s said until it’s already out. There’s a long pause. They’d been tiptoeing around each other a little, Ashton had anyway, after his little outburst earlier. Michael kept giving him weary looks, like he knew why but didn’t really understand, and this is the most they’d spoken since then. Ashton doesn’t know why he can’t filter his mouth anymore because there was no reason to mention Bryana at all, it’s not really any of Michael’s business. Ashton thinks Michael might have miraculously fallen asleep until he shifts a bit.

“Yeah?” Michael responds, and it’s quiet enough that there’s no tone to it. Ashton wonders to himself, not for the first time, why he cares about Michael’s tone of voice or what Michael thinks at all.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” Ashton whispers, pulls Michael in closer so their legs tangle.

“Are you fucking?” Michael asks after a minute or two.

“Mike.” Ashton, exasperated, shoves Michael a little but not enough to budge their positions.

Michael shrugs as best he can in their embrace. “Just curious.”

“Not yet.” Michael hums, shrugs again. Ashton doesn’t know what that means. 

“Do you think you will?” Michael questions, and his voice is even smaller than before. Ashton feels a bit like there’s a right answer, so he doesn’t say anything. Michael falls asleep soon enough anyway, fingers wrapped tight around Ashton’s bicep as he breathes warm, slow breaths on his neck, and Michael’s weight on him feels comfortable, familiar. Still, he feels like the weight in his chest definitely isn’t.

And after that Michael keeps crawling into his bed. 

Ashton thinks even though LA is fun, beautiful and warm like home, he’s sure all the new writing is starting wars in Michael’s head. They’ve had a long three years; it’s been tough on them all and they’re so young, but Michael’s battle has been a little more destructive; that’s just the kind of person Michael is. Ashton’s here for Michael when he needs him, he has to be, because Michael’s so important and Ashton needs him to be okay. 

It’s strange to think about, that Michael’s personality was so conflicting sometimes, soft but loud but insecure, and it leaves Michael a little hard to deal with, sometimes too much, but Ashton always does what he can and more for Michael’s sake more than his own. Ashton knew from day one he’d do anything for Michael, so he listens in dark rooms when Michael needs to get things out, or when he can’t even get it out but needs the comfort.

He knows Michael will make it through either way, he’s the biggest fighter Ashton knows. His passion for the music alone will get him through anything but Ashton can see there are nights where there’s little fight left, and those are the times Ashton’s arms will always be wide open. Nothing feels more right than when Michael is with him.

It’s been a week or two since it started (whatever ‘it’ is, Ashton’s still unsure); he can’t really tell days apart anymore. Michael comes in one day at nearly midnight, shuffles noisily as his feet barely lift from the plush, cream carpet, and Ashton eventually looks up behind him from where he’s pulling his boots on, sending a small smile at Michael as he perches on the edge of the bed.

It’s at least a minute before Michael says anything. “Where are you going?”

Ashton shrugs like he’s unsure but they both know he’s isn’t. “Bryana wants to hang, so…” He doesn’t know why he feels so defensive, awkward even. The older boy pretends he doesn’t see Michael’s face drop.

“Oh. Thought we could hang.” Michael scratches at the stubble on his face, and it’s starting to grow through so quickly it’s rivalling Ashton’s own. He can’t help but mirror the action, although his feels a little more laced in guilt.

“We’ve hung out all week.” Ashton’s voice is small, but he immediately knows it’s one of the worst things he could have said when Michael shoots up with a look of a little confusion and a lot more rage.

“Okay Ashton. Don’t say it like I’m a burden.” He walks closer to the door, but Ashton shoots up over the bed to grab his arm. He’s kind of hanging mid-air, legs still hooked on the bed but most of his upper body hovering between it and Michael. If Michael moves Ashton will go right down, and Michael looks like he’s seriously deliberating the action.

“Mike-” Ashton starts, and Michael moves closer so Ashton can manoeuvre himself upright on the bed but facing Michael this time. When Ashton lets go Michael moves closer to the door again, but Ashton doesn’t reach out to stop him.

“If I’m bothering you let me know, okay? If it’s annoying we’ll stop.” Michael mumbles. Ashton’s still not sure what they’re collectively doing, but he knows he doesn’t want it to stop.

“Of course you’re not, I want you to come to me when you need to, always.” Ashton says with a serious nod, and it’s enough to take the look off Michael’s face. Not enough to bring him closer. “Do you want me to stay?”

Michael shakes his head, taking another step out of the room. He doesn’t make eye contact. “No it’s fine. I’ll just hang with Luke or whatever.” The younger boy doesn’t waste any time after that, walking across the landing and leaving Ashton in the room heaving out a sigh, feeling like he’s done something wrong.

\---

When Michael shows Ashton a barely legible draft of a song about airplanes, Ashton doesn’t really take much notice of it after the first read. Not because it isn’t good enough, because it is. It’s incredible writing and the words tangle together in a way Ashton’s never really been able to do like Michael. It’s more that they’ve all written and shown each other as a group a lot of songs, and at this particular moment it’s another song to add to the list to work on. He thinks it’s potentially one of Michael’s best though, as he reads lines about eyes and smiles and never dying, and it makes him feel fuzzy. 

So he kisses the corner of Michael’s mouth quick and soft, nothing unusual but nothing he’s really done before either, and looks at his phone when it makes a noise. He doesn’t realise what he’s done until he sees Michael sinking into the couch in his peripheral, playing with his bracelets and he’s obviously trying to hold back a smile.

“It’s real good, Mike.” Ashton says dropping his phone, staring at Michael in a way he knows must look weak with fondness.

Ashton likes the way Michael keens when he tugs him in under his arm, turning a little pink so he kisses down his jaw again. Michael chuckles, low and warm and the fuzzy feeling builds into a steady thrum in his chest. It doesn’t stop for a while as they sit in comfortable silence until Luke comes in singing about kings and queens of the new jazz scene and Michael jumps up to join him, not before squeezing Ashton’s arm, and Calum yells at them to ‘shut the fuck up’ from the top of the staircase.

\---

_April, 2015_

Ashton knows Michael is coming even before the door opens. It’s sad, how he hears the whimpers through their adjacent wall, and how he knows what those mean now. He’d only woken up a few minutes ago to take a leak, and before his head had hit the pillow the sounds filtered through his wall. He wishes he could do more, take some of the hurt away, but instead he sits up and pulls the cover back just as his door slips open slowly, and Michael looks too torn to notice Ashton’s waiting for him. He slips into the space provided and buries his face in Ashton’s hip.

“Mike?” Ashton whispers so quietly, not wanting to startle him but the younger boy only shakes his head. He resorts to one hand rubbing circles on Michael’s back, the other buried gently in his hair. 

It’s a good 15 minutes of silence, Ashton staring at the way the weak sliver of light from the moon gleams through a gap in the curtains, and the bare skin on Michael’s arms glows even paler. His skin is so soft, Ashton thinks, the hand slipping from his hair to stroke gently at the back of Michael’s bicep that’s resting across his thighs, the other boy’s tiny fingers digging in and out of Ashton’s waist the only sign showing him that he’s still awake.

Eventually Michael shuffles further up, not quite sitting up but resting his head on Ashton’s chest instead. Ashton tries not to shiver at Michael’s breath puffing out on his bare skin, but he can’t help the shudder. It seems to make Michael laugh a little, breathe harder, and Ashton rolls his eyes as he hitches the boy down with him so they’re lying on the pillow instead but making eye contact, close enough they’re touching everywhere.

Michael’s mouth is so pink even in the poor light of the room, like he’s been biting on it relentlessly. Ashton’s hand goes up to cup Michael’s face, thumb stroking gently as Michael closes his eyes. His piercing shimmers as he shuffles to make himself more comfortable, and Ashton can’t believe how fond he is of this boy, how much he cares.

“You okay?” Ashton asks, and Michael doesn’t move for a few seconds, eyes downcast.

“Not really, but.” Michael starts, then looks up. “I will be?” And he sounds so scared, like he doesn’t believe it himself but needs something, someone to convince him instead. And Ashton knows his duty, his role in Michael’s life and what he hopes will always be his job. This is it. In this moment, looking after Michael is the most important thing he’ll ever have to do.

“Of course you will be. You’ve got this, I know you do. You’re going to be okay.” Ashton promises, thumb moving to stroke below his eye.

Michael nods softly, voice still shaken. “I get so scared sometimes. Like I don’t even know what’s going on in my head anymore.”

And Ashton feels his heart quake, for his boy who he’d do anything to make things easier for. “I know, we’ll get you there Mike, step by step. You don’t need to worry. I’m here. I’ll help you the whole way.”

“I miss Japan.” Ashton knows what that actually means, Michael missing how happy he was. Ashton misses it too.

It doesn’t take long for Michael to fall asleep after that, more from being emotionally shot than wanting to, Ashton is sure, but if there’s anything Ashton’s grateful for it’s that he can give Michael this getaway, let his mind go quiet even for a little bit. Ashton follows suit quickly enough, lets his breathing fall in sync as winds an arm around Michael’s waist.

In the morning, Ashton wakes up first but doesn’t move much bar trying to sit up a little, knows Michael needs every second of sleep he can get. He grabs his phone off the table beside the bed, thinks twice about taking a picture of Michael even though he looks pretty in the morning light. His skin is radiant, and Ashton’s a little in awe. He scrolls through twitter instead, tries to keep his thoughts at bay by tweeting some fans. 

It must be another half hour before Michael stirs, groaning as he stretches. He smiles softly when he leans up to look at Ashton. “You’ve been awake a while.” Michael mumbles like he already knows, voice rough with sleep and Ashton smiles in return as the boy below paws at his eyes.

“You needed to sleep.” Ashton says, letting Michael snuggle even closer.

“You’re cute.” Michael responds, but it feels like he’s saying something else. Ashton looks away, out the sliver in the curtain that’s got sun shining through it now rather than moon, and feels Michael’s lips ghost at his jaw. He drops a kiss there before pulling the sheets back. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Ashton goes down into the kitchen after Michael’s left and sits down in a daze, feeling like his body isn’t his own. He sees Calum but he doesn’t _see_ Calum, until a cup of coffee is placed in front of him.

“Oh, um, morning.” Ashton says, and his voice cracks a little. Calum looks at him with what is clearly worry but tries to mask it, sips from his own giant mug covered in pugs.

“You good?” Calum asks, after a bit of silence. Ashton can hear the water running through the pipes, closes his eyes for a second when he thinks about who’s in the shower.

“Yeah, all good.” He nods, eyes staring down into his mug even though the steam makes his eyes water. Calum always makes his coffee perfect, he thinks, sipping more but keeping his eyes lowered until the silence becomes too much.

Calum nods slowly, and Ashton can see wheels turning in his head. “Saw Michael leave your room.” He starts, and when Ashton doesn’t say anything he continues. “Again.” 

Ashton sighs, and it feels like that’s all he does lately, sigh in confusion, not really knowing what to say or think. He decides honesty is his best policy because Calum is his best friend in the whole world, his brother, and anything he doesn’t tell him now he’ll find out eventually anyway. “He sleeps in my bed a lot.” 

The younger boy doesn’t waste time beating around the bush. “Is it physical?”

Ashton’s head shoots up, eyes wide. “We’re not fucking around? What the fuck?”

Calum shrugs like it was a legitimate question, and Ashton feels walls coming up. “Cal, what is this about?” Ashton questions, voice tired. He’s rapidly feeling like he didn’t get a second of sleep.

“He’s in your bed every other night, and you guys have been weirdly close. Not platonic kind of close. You kissed his face the other day. And not like, the way you and I would _jokingly_. It was genuine and… weirdly cute.” Calum explains, rambling like he doesn’t know where to begin. And the brown boy had never been one for theatrics, always laid things out plain and simple as they needed to be said. Ashton wishes he’d sugar coat it. There was nowhere to hide.

Ashton doesn’t know what to say, so instead tries another route. “What are you talking about?” 

The only thing is that Calum knows him too well, knows what Ashton’s like when he’s trying to duck out of a situation. He shakes his head, putting his mug down and placing his hands flat on the table.

“Ashton, he showed you his new song.” And okay, Calum doesn’t need to explain it any further for Ashton to know what that means. Michael is always so reluctant to show the words in his head, because they’re a little darker and deeper and colder than the other boys’ writing, but Michael came to _Ashton_ without a second thought. He knows what that means.

“I know.” Ashton nods, aware of the weight Michael’s resting on him now.

“And you kissed his face and you told him it was good.” Calum says, and it’s accusing. Ashton’s conscious of how important Michael is to Calum, but he doesn’t know what Calum wants from him.

“Were you watching?” Ashton accuses back, and the dark haired boy rolls his eyes.

“Listen, Michael’s in a funny place right now, and I only want to know that you’re going about this the right way.” Calum walks around the island, sitting next to Ashton and rubbing his shoulder.

“He needs me. Like, he sleeps better when I’m there.” There’s no need to justify it, but Ashton feels he Calum owes that much.

Calum hums, getting up and heading to the fridge. He grabs some eggs, and for a second Ashton thinks the conversation is over, until he hears his voice. “Don’t… don’t do anything stupid.” Calum’s not even looking at him when he says it, so Ashton doesn’t bother giving an answer. 

It’s a few minutes later when Calum turns, scrambling eggs on the pan. “So I was wondering.”

Ashton looks up from his phone, confused, muttering a reply. “Spit it out Calum.”

“You and Bryana?” Calum questions flatly, looking Ashton right in the face. The older boy shrugs because there’s no name for what they have, they’ve hung out a bit and enjoy each other’s company. She’s a great girl. They have such similar taste and sense of humour that Ashton genuinely believes they could go somewhere, with some time. He doesn’t say any of this though.

“So what about you and Michael.” The sigh returns, and Calum smiles a little like he knows something.

“He’s my dude.” Ashton answers, because that’s the first thing that comes to his mind. Calum’s face frowns suddenly, a quick drop from his smile but he doesn’t say anything else, and it feels like there’s something hanging in the air. Ashton feels cornered, being asked about two people he genuinely cares for a lot. He has a feeling there was a right answer like the other night, and he gave the wrong one again.

He can’t think about it anymore, because Michael and Luke come storming into the kitchen yelling about hunger, and Calum plates up eggs and toast and coffee for everyone, doesn’t say a word when Michael pushes his stool closer to Ashton and doesn’t leave his side for the entire morning.

He’s paranoid though, because as the days pass Ashton thinks he’s making things up, until he definitely isn’t. 

He’s positive that he keeps seeing that Calum and Michael whispering in corners. More often and more heated every time. He tries to ignore it, pretend that nothing’s going on even though everything is going on.

Michael comes over after one of his early evening Calum chats; this time they're sitting by the pool with their legs dangling in, shorts rolled up. When he comes inside and sits on the couch with Ashton his legs are still a little wet and make Ashton’s jeans feel damp. He says nothing. 

“What are you doing?” Michael questions, even though he can see Ashton holding a book.

“Leisurely reading.” Michael nods like that’s more than enough explanation, bends his legs and tucks them between Ashton and himself, tucks his feet under the older boy’s thighs.

They sit quietly for a little, Michael lifting Ashton’s arm over around his shoulder while he tucks himself even further into the couch and his body, and Ashton looks down at him silently, feels his heart racing. He wonders if Michael has noticed.

The only thing he can think about is Michael and Calum’s constant whispers, trying to subtly look at him but not knowing that he’s already glancing over, side eyeing them both. He feels like everyone knows something, but he doesn’t know what’s going on himself between himself and Michael and what Calum’s constantly got to say about it. He feels like nothing makes sense anymore. Especially his relationship with Michael. It’s not necessarily that he’s doing something wrong but he’s not doing this right either. 

All his anxieties about the last few weeks are piling up, and Michael gives the smallest of actions, barely moving his head closer but he was clearly going to nuzzle at his jaw. Ashton pulls away so hard and fast that his book falls off his lap. Michael blinks his face blank, still hooked under the older boy’s arm even though Ashton’s angled away from him now. Michael sighs, lets Ashton’s arm drop from his shoulder over the back of the couch. He stays for a couple of minutes though he doesn’t look up or say anything, and the silence is suffocating. 

Ashton knows it’s him that needs to say something, clear up the air and what the hell that reaction was but he’s got no words in his mouth.

Eventually Michael gets up with a huff, shaking his head. 

Ashton rubs at his eyes and kicks the book further away like it’s the cause of all his problems.

\---

They’re flying to London soon. 

With the tour approaching ridiculously fast they’ll need a couple of days of rehearsal, and Ashton thinks maybe Michael is trying to get himself into the right gear and headspace. He thinks this less because that’s what he expects and more as comfort because Michael stops hanging with him as much, stops kissing the corner of his mouth, stops crawling into his bed at night. 

He doesn’t think anything of it, except he does. He thinks everything of it. But like he told Calum Michael is only his dude, they weren’t anything special.

They’re still on talking terms though, only it’s like when they first met and were unsure of their boundaries. Michael doesn’t touch him anymore. Ashton’s not sure how he feels.

The older boy is going to record drums soon, a few last bits and pieces that they can fit in before tour. He’s also supposed to meet Bryana for dinner and he finds himself in exactly the same position as weeks prior, Michael coming to stand at his room and watching as he pulls his shoes on. He can tell Michael wants to say something and it feels strange, like deja vu.

“Spit it out.” Ashton says, swinging to the other side of the bed. He pats the space beside him but Michael looks on from the door like he didn’t see.

“What?” Michael asks, eyes narrowed a little, like he’s daring Ashton to do something. “I don’t have-” Ashton rubs at his face in frustration, already knowing what he’s about to say. Michael sees this, huffs out and tilts his head at Ashton. “You’re going to record Airplanes today.”

“Yes,” leaves Ashton’s mouth as he nods in agreement, not really knowing what else to say, but Michael’s still looking at him expectantly. “You’re not finished.”

Michael’s face changes like he’s been caught, then falls defensively. “I fucking am.”

“Woah, Mike.” Ashton utters, disbelieving. They were all pretty okay with speaking to each other a little aggressively but that was unexpected.

“Do you like the song?” Michael asks, and Ashton positive his heart is in his throat.

“Of course I do. You wrote it. I told you what I think when you first showed it to me.” Michael hums, looks down at his phone like this is the most boring conversation he’s ever had.

“What?” Ashton questions, and stands up to grab his things to go.

“Nothing.” Michael’s voice is still so nonchalant and Ashton’s so tired of this, trying to keep up with Michael and his expectations to always be on the same page.

“Okay?” Ashton says, because what the hell does he want? Michael lets out the driest laugh but he’s not even amused as he looks at Ashton. He leaves without another word. 

Ashton ends up 2 hours late to meet Feldy after walking around the neighbourhood on his own for nearly an hour then catching dessert in a small diner near their temporary LA residence. He couldn’t handle the thought of being so wound up around Bryana, and by the time he reaches Feldy’s house, hair tied up in a ponytail, he’s angry. Even more, he’s fuming that Michael can make him feel like this, guilty for something he hasn’t done, or doesn’t know he’s done. He thought they were okay.

Michael has him wrapped around his finger as always, no surprise there, and for someone who claims that the other boy is just his ‘dude’ he feels like this means so much more. 

He sits at the shitty drumkit set up in the makeshift booth in a spare room, not even caring that it’s past midnight and the neighbours probably don’t deserve the wreck he feels like he’s about to unleash. He’s glad this isn’t the nice kit. Feldy can obviously tell there’s no room for conversation, and sends a thumbs up when they’re ready to go.

He does the entire thing in one take, and definitely doesn’t listen to Michael’s voice in his ears. Ashton needs to talk to Michael about this but what does he have to say? There’s no words in his head, he wouldn’t know where to start. He doesn’t want to create a problem with someone he loves so much.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because he’s home an hour later, snuggled up in bed after a shower and feeling freer and more relaxed in comparison to when he left. It seems that the other boy has calmed down too, because Michael crawls into his bed again that night for the first time in weeks. Ashton was supposed to stay with Bryana but unsurprisingly he must have been up when Ashton got in. 

They don’t say a single word to each other even as their legs tangle, and Ashton needs to speak his heart out desperately but Michael falls asleep almost instantly. As he lays awake, eyes wide and gazing at the now blonde mane peeking out from the covers, for the first time Ashton lets his walls drop, questions what the hell is going on here. 

He can’t ask though; for some strange reason it feels a little final, the fact that Michael’s gone when he wakes up.

\---

_May, 2015_

Ashton thought the days were blurring in LA, but he’s bordering on insane once they really get their hands into the tour. He barely knows what he’s supposed to be doing, where he is, where he’s going. He tries to keep up but some days it’s impossible, and he allows himself to be taken by Zop and the rest of the guys to where he needs to be. As long as he’s there, he guesses. Doesn’t matter how he gets there or if he even knows where there is. He can tell the other boys are exactly the same, and they share that comfort as the squash together in cars to shows and couches for interviews.

Tour doesn’t leave room for privacy, or alone time. It doesn’t even leave much room for thought. They’re constantly together, breathing each other in and they’re all living in one another’s pockets to the point Ashton can’t really tell if Michael is hanging out with him more or less. He’s always there, because he always has to be, and it feels like they’re spending more time together but he supposes he’s spending more time with Luke and Calum as well. He can’t complain.

Michael still crawls into his bunk sometimes, but it’s so impractical in terms of space that it rarely ever happens, and he’s always gone by the time Ashton shakes himself awake. He supposes he’s there for when Michael gets desperate, needs to sleep because they have a gig in several hours time, and Ashton’s not sure how that makes him feel.

There’s no pouring of his dark heart like before, and the kisses have still stopped. 

Ashton convinces himself it’s Michael continuing to keep his head in the game. Tour is _hard_ , and what they had before, now that Ashton doesn’t have it anymore, was _weird_ and maybe not what either of them needed.

That doesn’t stop Ashton from falling into habits, offering comfort even if Michael never takes it, making sure he knows what he’s doing at all times and asking if he wants to eat after coming off stage. Ashton does everything he can to keep Michael up, above the water even if Michael doesn’t want it (but needs it, Ashton can see), and tries to be enough because that’s what he always wants to be. Until he isn’t anymore.

They're back in the UK for Big Weekend, and Ashton’s pretty excited. They’re all tired having come in on the ferry straight from France, and it’s left them with little time to sleep. But Ashton’s pumped anyway, mainly because the weather isn’t too bad and there’s a lot of good vibes in the air when they arrive. He’s positive the show will be good. But Bryana’s flown in too, and even though he’d seen her in Amsterdam, he’s missed her a touch. He’s glad they’ll be able to hang out again.

The weather changes a little in the middle of the day, and Ashton’s quite good with cold but he can see Michael in the corner of the room shaking with shivers. He clicks his tongue, looking for his massive jacket that he’d remembered to bring.

“Mikey, you’re fucking cold. That jacket is doing nothing for you.” Ashton calls, coming closer with the heavier attire. Michael rolls his eyes, snatches the coat with a mutter of a ‘thanks’ and slips off the too small denim jacket. When he pulls it on he doesn’t say anything else, but brings out his phone and ignores Ashton’s presence.

“Mike? Are we okay?” Ashton asks, sitting on the edge of the chair. It’s uncomfortable, but Michael’s acting weird and he wants to clear things up. It’s not uncommon for Michael to go cold at Ashton unexpectedly, but apart from earlier in their interview with Scott Mills where Michael took a picture of Ashton’s arm as a pretend bum crack to upload to twitter, Michael has barely said a word to him in days.

“What?” Michael asks, and he doesn’t even look up. Ashton rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Look at me?” The older boy asks but Michael doesn’t move an inch, playing with his bracelets. “Michael you’re being fucking rude.”

Ashton is no longer faced with purple grey hair, but instead a scowling face staring him dead on. “What do you want?” Michael mutters, but Ashton’s not bothered for Michael’s attitude right now. He gets up and leaves without another word, hoping the other boy feels even a tiny bit guilty.

Instead he goes to meet Bryana, who’s travelled from work in London specifically to hang out with him, and he’s grateful to see a different face. Even then he’s still sad, and he doesn’t mean to be grump or bad company but Michael’s made him think once again about their relationship, and he ends up asking her if they can leave the main grounds with all the stages and just hang out at the back.

He knows he should be happier, especially with someone he’d classify as one of his best friends but the more they hang out the more he realises he’d much rather be with the boys right now, or mending whatever the hell has gone wrong with him and Michael. He tells her this much, because he values the honesty they have.

“Okay,” she says, runs a hand through Ashton’s hair as he looks at her from where his head rests in his palms, elbows to his knees. “He’s important to you. You should fix it.”

“Dinner before you go back to London?” She shakes her head, and Ashton gets it, what that really means.

“I have to head back in a little bit anyway. Let’s just hang for a few more minutes.”

Ashton leaves to find the boys again, after a heated kiss with Bryana that clearly means goodbye for a while. At least that's what it feels like.

It takes a bit before they return from watching Fall Out Boy and he wishes he’d been there with them to see one of his favourite bands. Calum and Luke are still reeling, talking about it and greet him briefly before going in search for snacks outside, a beer in each of their hands. Michael falls back on the couch he was sat in before Ashton left, and the older boy notices Michael’s back in his denim jacket. The cold weather had lifted, but it still leaves a pang in his chest.

Michael had to have seen Ashton when he came in, but it’s only when he’s settled that he gives him any acknowledgment, and he doesn’t bother beating around the bush. “Do you know there’s pictures of you everywhere? My twitter is blowing up.”

Ashton’s eyebrows furrow. He’d seen paps as well as fans taking pictures of him and Bryana but he didn’t think it would be a thing this quickly, nor did he think anyone still cared. “I can’t help that, what am I going to say? Stop taking pictures? They won’t listen.”

Michael snorts. “Maybe keep your fuck life under wraps better?”

Ashton’s so over this, and he gets up to leave the room. He thought he’d be able to salvage this but Michael clearly has other plans. “Fuck off Michael.” He snipes, walking past him to get to the door.

“You fuck off. Stop babying me. Stop telling me to wear a coat and to eat and to sleep. I don’t need you looking after me all the time. I’m not a fucking child.” He grabs Ashton’s heavy duty coat from where it was draped over the couch, and throws it at him as he passes. Ashton’s quick though, catches it but looks down at the coat with wide eyes as he stops in his tracks.

“Okay.” Ashton whispers, nodding slowly. He thinks he might be sick. He doesn’t meet Michael’s eyes again, not wanting to see whatever look he’s wearing on his face. “Right. Fine.”

Ashton doesn’t talk to Michael at all after he leaves their little dressing room. He doesn’t think about how deep a wound his words have cut, and instead focuses on putting everything he can into their shows as they continue through the UK. On stage they keep up appearances, talking when they need to, even to each other. In the end the fans don’t deserve a bad show because the two of them can’t be in the same room anymore. It wouldn’t be fair.

He doesn’t hold this fairness far though. He knows it’s not their fault, that they haven’t made the same request but Ashton stops babying them all. He doesn’t wake them up in the morning, doesn’t tell them what their itinerary is for the day when he finds out like usual. It’s so unlike him that it almost hurts, but it hurts more thinking about the fact that Michael doesn’t appreciate how much he cares about him, that he looks after him because it’s in his blood.

It would almost be funny, seeing how things fall apart, if it didn’t make him even more upset. Luke keeps getting up minutes before they need to leave for somewhere, and it fucks him up so much that he’s an absolute grump for the rest of the day, even more so than when they just wake him up. It goes on like this for over a week before Ashton feels so bad he steps in, and he only wakes Luke up, tells him what’s going on so he can pass the message on.

He appreciates it, that Calum and Luke weren’t there for the argument but know that this is a lot more serious than their intervention can deal with, so they leave the two alone. Calum seems like he’s taken sides though, and even if he hasn’t said anything Ashton knows Calum has opinions on it. Ashton’s not a baby though, he won’t be petty about it. Calum and Michael go way too far back for him to expect anything else, so he holds his words even though Calum keeps side eyeing him.

Luke though, he’s clearly had enough by the end of week two, and crawls into Ashton’s bunk after their second Birmingham gig. Ashton’s exhausted, his body seconds away from complete shut down, but he feels at rest when Luke’s calm aura settles in next to him. The youngest doesn’t say anything for a while, lets his breath align with Ashton’s. 

Ashton loves Luke a lot for this, giving him something he didn’t realise he needed. He’d felt so alone recently, especially dealing with people online who’d given him nothing but shit, and feeling like his band was against him too was all too much.

“Tour’s hard, man.” Luke whispers, sniffles a little. Ashton hopes to god he’s not getting sick.

“I know, I know Lukey. We have to keep going though. Nearly halfway through already.” Ashton assures, rubbing his back.

“Yeah,” he agrees, breathing deep. “And we’ll be home soon.”

“Exactly. Just gotta keep our head above the water.” Luke nods and sighs softly, like he’s pondering.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Michael, but I hope you sort it out. You need to sort it out.” He mumbles, and looks up at Ashton, sky blue eyes piercing.

“It’s not that easy, Luke.” Ashton says, looking away.

“Isn’t it? I’ve kept my nose out of the whole thing because I don’t think it has anything to do with me. I know Calum’s being a bit bias but in the end you’re all my brothers. I want the band to go back to normal, you know? I fucking hate tiptoeing about the place.” Luke replies, and Ashton knows he’s right.

“You shouldn’t be tiptoeing, you’re okay with everyone.” Ashton whispers.

“Yeah, but Michael’s always 10 seconds away from blowing up. I know you’re okay but he isn’t.” The younger boy gripes, climbing back out of the bunk. “Fix him, Ash.”

Ashton’s voice is low when he replies. “He doesn’t want me to.”

Luke shakes his head, like Ashton doesn’t quite get it. “Michael says a lot of stuff but means the opposite. He’s a Scorpio.” The curly haired boy laughs at that, but it turns into a huff.

“He hates me.” And it sounds so petulant Ashton’s a bit embarrassed but it’s only Luke, who rubs at his shoulder before climbing up into his own bunk.

“He loves you, Ash. More than you know.” Luke shoots him a look Ashton doesn’t understand. “Fix him.”

\---

_June, 2015_

No one of them expect it when it happens.

It’s their second London show, and Ashton’s still not really speaking to Michael. They’re doing well in terms of keeping up appearances. No one has said anything about their interaction on stage and that’s the most Ashton can ask for. 

They’re playing Wembley Arena though, something they always said they’d do when they looked at the venue from their London home too long ago, and now they’re doing three sold out shows. It’s the kind of thing you dream about, but it’s actually happening and Ashton’s on top of the world. So in his view, everything is on top of the world. Until it isn’t.

The show is going so well. The crowd is screaming, it’s fucking loud, it’s _fun_. There are girls losing their minds the entire way around the arena, phones are lighting up during Disconnected and it’s so beautiful that it makes Ashton’s heart lift to his mouth. Before Rejects, he decides he has to talk to the audience for a second. He needs everyone to know that his band and their fans are the best and he’s so speechless.

“Within 5 seconds of summer and my band, Calum, Luke, Michael,” Ashton pauses briefly, looking over because just saying Michael’s name makes his heart skip. He doesn’t look away as he continues. “I found a place that I felt at home, I found people to make music with hopefully for the rest of my life.” He pauses, looks out at the crowd, because he’s going to remember this particular moment for the rest of his life. “And I also found the most beautiful fans in the world so thank you so much.”

The rest of the show goes swiftly, and he’s barely breathing by the time they reach She Looks So Perfect, breath leaving him in fast pants. It’s not long before he can take a rest, get his energy back up for the last two songs. He needs to be able to breathe a bit better so he can sing his solos in both encore songs. 

Ashton’s senses are sharp, probably from the heightened adrenaline, so even though he’s concentrating so hard on finishing the song, he feels the crowd shift a bit. They’re still singing and jumping around, but he can point out several horrified looking faces. 

He doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. 

When they’re done, he looks for his band. Luke’s taking his guitar off, and so is Calum but he looks like he’s in pain. Michael’s nowhere to be seen. He furrows his brows, not really sure what’s happened to Calum, so he climbs off the drum riser, walking down the ramp and backstage. 

It’s pandemonium.

There’s people yelling for paramedics, _now_ , and it can’t be for Calum because he can’t have made it around before him. He makes eye contact with them just as Calum and Luke reach him, all of them shaken suddenly, because where’s Michael? 

They shoot off further backstage, and Ashton’s positive his heart drops to his stomach. He’s sure he’s going to be sick.

He can hear Michael crying before he sees him. The heaves are violent, and Ashton can smell it before he sees it. It’s burning. 

He can’t remember much. He remembers Calum shooting past all the bodies even though they tell him to stay back, gently touch Michael’s arm who grabs his hand immediately, squeezes so tight as he tries to calm down. Calum’s presence seems to help but Michael’s clearly in so much shock as a woman holds a cold towel to his face. Michael’s shaking too much to do it himself. 

Ashton doesn’t think he’s exhaled since he saw Michael, and he feels arms loop around his waist. Luke’s shaking, Ashton can feel it, and he rubs at the boy’s arms to calm him down, pressing him closer.

He can’t look after Michael but he can do his best to console Luke.

Someone talks about the audience, and Ashton says he’ll do it, if they aren’t going back he needs to be the one to tell them. Loosening Luke’s arms, he walks back towards the stage even though he doesn’t know what he’ll say. 

The whole night pales when he sees the crowd fall apart at his words that ‘Michael’s hurt himself’, swears he can hear crying already. It’s unbearable, but nothing compares to seeing Michael in so much pain. It kills him even more that there’s nothing he can do. 

He comes back into the room they’re all in, and Michael’s breathing is softer but still deep, surrounded by two paramedics this time. Ashton grabs for Luke again who’s calmer now but his breath is still shaky. 

Ashton drags Luke closer to the two boys, kneeling by Michael so he knows they’re near even though there’s a woman still taping up his face. He brings Luke down with him. Michael looks at him for a while, and their breaths sync up. It makes his heart stutter when Michael takes his hand and squeezes, but lets go. He does the same to Luke. They know it’s Michael telling them that he’s okay, even if he doesn’t look it. Calum’s getting his own burn checked out, and Ashton didn’t even realise he’d been hurt too. He guesses that's why he'd looked so pained. As soon as he’s done though, Calum’s back to being squeezed against Michael’s side.

Ashton ignores that Michael doesn’t let go of Calum’s hand the entire time.

Everything changes after that. Michael sticks to Calum’s side for the rest of the night, even goes out despite the fact that everyone can tell he’s still in pain. Ashton assumes alcohol is Michael’s answer to such a dire end to a beautiful show, and he can’t blame him.

So he still doesn’t blame him when he pulls away from Calum’s side once they get back to the hotel, still a bit drunk and follows Ashton to his room. Ashton can’t say a word, not when Michael is this vulnerable, so he lets Michael get into the bed first after stripping off his clothes, burnt side of his face up. Right now it’s just pink, cooled down but Ashton knows it’ll probably be bright red by morning. They said it shouldn’t scar too much if at all. That Michael’s lucky it wasn’t worse, like he got off scot free.

Ashton knows that isn’t the case, nowhere near, because even once the physical wounds heal Michael’s still going to dwell that once again he’s hurt, once again the world has won, and Ashton’s heart is hurting so bad for him. He can see the tears pooling up in Michael’s eyes now that they’re in the quiet of the room, no distractions. Michael hasn’t had a moment to himself the entire time since, and now is probably the first chance he’s had to really think about it.

“Don’t think about it okay? Please don’t cry.” Michael closes his eyes, shakes his head like that isn’t possible, tears catching in his dark lashes before rolling down his face, over his nose and onto the pillow. Ashton crawls closer so they’re touching, knowing it’s easier said than done. He can’t think of anything else to do, so he sings.

He sings whatever pops into his head, Green Day, Chili Peppers, John Mayer, and keeps singing, even after Michael’s stopped crying and his breaths slow. He doesn’t stop until he’s positive Michael’s completely asleep, and proceeds to stay awake and watch him until the sun starts to come up. He can’t keep his eyes open any longer. He shifts from under Michael, goes to the bathroom then takes a picture outside the window. Ashton instagrams before he falls asleep.

_Last night was crazy, happy my dude is okay, all my love!_

Luke comes to get them in the morning with Calum close on his heels, and they all get ready together in Ashton’s room to make their way back to Wembley after Michael assuring them he’s okay to play. “The show must go on,” is all he keeps saying whenever anyone asks, and Ashton’s heart pours with gratitude and adoration that he knows that strongest boy in the entire world.

Michael’s quiet after that though. Which still isn’t that quiet at all, but quiet for Michael, enough for everyone to notice. The UK tour ends okay, not high but not too low either, Michael still being in good spirits enough for everyone to let themselves relax.

They head back to Australia in the next few days, and Ashton can’t help but be grateful to leave, that they’re all going home to see their family. Michael needs his parents, Ashton can tell that much.

He doesn’t make a fuss when Michael isn’t around much and spends time with his family whenever they’re not doing something important, because he needs to recover. It’s just odd when they’re a three, the dynamic always goes weird especially since Calum and Ashton haven’t spoken about the situation at all. Ashton is aware Calum is waiting for him to bring it up, but Ashton’s not sure now is really the time. He thinks it's best to bury it.

\---

_July, 2015_

After the Australia shows which are always amazing no matter what, it’s an incredible honour to play back at home, they have a break for a bit under two weeks. Calum and Luke are out practically every night, still spending time together. Ashton knows how important it is that they see friends and wind down before America, and he comes along once or twice too. 

He spends time with his family for an early birthday, goes to the zoo when turns 21 and has his first legal drink when he heads back to America. Bryana takes him out and he’s appreciative that their friendship is still strong despite them failing before they even started. 

None of them have seen Michael since, which isn’t unusual, but. Ashton still misses him. He thinks about him all day even though today should be his day, and when he gets a tweet from Michael (longer than the ones from Calum and Luke) Ashton’s over the moon. He doesn’t know whether it’s for appearances; he’s still not sure where he and Michael stand, but he doesn’t care. 

He’s smiling all day, and Bryana rolls her eyes at him every other second especially once Ashton’s phone rings and he sees Michael’s face-timing him, his own face lighting up. 

“Mikey,” Ashton’s voice is a little breathless. Michael’s clearly lying in bed, sheets tucked up under his armpits. His collarbones are especially sharp at this angle and Ashton isn’t staring.

“Hey Ash, happy birthday dude.” His voice is soft, and his nose crinkles up as he tries to get comfortable. 

“Thanks so much.” Ashton replies smiling gently. Michael sends one in return, sleepy and sweet. 

“What have you done today?” Michael asks after the silence stretches.

Ashton shrugs. It’s been a good birthday. He’s had a great time but he still misses his boys. “Just been for my first legal beer, went for lunch and stuff with Bryana and Joey.”

“Nice. Um, is Bryana with you now?” Ashton narrows his eyes, forgets Michael can see him then tries to neutralise his face. He knows he’s been caught when Michael tinges pink, eyes downcast. Ashton flicks his eyes up to where Bryana’s sat, looking puzzled by her mention.

“Yeah, she is.” Ashton nods, sends Michael a comforting smile. He didn’t mean to make it weird.

“Okay, well, tell her I said hello. We should hang when we’re all back next week.” Michael says, lifting his eyes up to see Ashton’s reaction. Ashton doesn’t say anything for a second or two, smile a little smaller but proceeds to nod.

“Yeah, okay.” His voice is gentle, worried he’ll give something away if he speaks any louder.

Michael hums, and Ashton’s so bewildered by this conversation. “Anyway, it's pretty late so I better hang up.”

“Thanks for calling buddy. Miss you a ton.” Ashton says before Michael goes, watching as he snuggles up even further into his sheets and brings the phone camera right up to his face, smile wide and eyes bright. “Hope you’re doing okay as well.” Ashton adds, and Michael goes silent for a while. He can see wheels turning his the younger boy’s head, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. Ashton waits anyway.

“I’m pretty good, I’m okay. I miss you too.” Michael nods, face still really close up. Ashton can see every inch of the baby smooth skin he’s always been jealous of, and the stubble growing new like Michael shaved only a day or two before. 

Ashton misses him so much.

“Good. Well, I’ll see you in a few days.” They hang up, Ashton staring at Bryana with wide eyes. He doesn’t have a clue what’s happened. Michael seemed so chipper and he’s never been like that about Bryana. She shrugs her shoulders, picking up a third doughnut from the box and crossing her legs from her seat on Ashton’s hotel bed.

The rest of the boys come back to LA within the next week, and it’s so good to see them again. Ashton’s missed them a bunch, and as soon as they’re together, Michael sat in the back with Ashton, Calum takes a group picture even though he’s not looking. It’s the band in a nutshell, and Michael laughs for ten minutes at Ashton’s tweet in return.

But the main thing that Ashton notices, more than anything is the way Michael’s mood shifts. It’s incredible, how quickly he’s returned to himself. It’s like Michael but before tour, before their argument. They’re _good_. 

He starts talking to Ashton like nothing’s changed, even though not once does he come near Ashton’s bed after that night in London. Ashton can’t complain, Michael’s giving him the time of day again. 

The start of the second album is beginning, and it’s a whole different ball park for them, a new era of their band. Michael’s so in love with what they’ve heard of the album so far, and Ashton knows the new music and excitement bubbling up is playing a huge role in getting him back to himself. He couldn’t be more grateful for the timing.

Until he finds out Michael’s been going to therapy. 

When Luke accidentally mentions it everyone goes silent. They all know that was a bad move, because Michael’s eyes go wide and train on Luke, who has gone pink in the face and his eyes are shifting so quickly, not really landing on anything for more than a second, definitely not Michael, and Calum sighs before running a hand over his face.

“You should have told him, Michael,” is all Calum says before getting up from his spot on the tour bus couch, pulling Luke up with him and leaving the room. Michael watches them go, doesn’t make eye contact with Ashton even though he must know the older boy hadn’t taken his eyes off him the entire time since Luke confessed his secret.

It’s quiet for a while, and Ashton wants to wait for Michael to say something, apologise, but he’s staying quiet. It’s not until Ashton huffs in annoyance that they boy even lifts his eyes to look at him, but Ashton’s waited enough. “You’ve been to therapy?

Michael nods, wringing his hands together. Ashton knows he must be so nervous, but he doesn’t understand why. “Yeah, um, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal, Mike? Why didn’t you tell me? Look at me.” Ashton adds when Michael’s eyes drop to his hands, because they’re going to be adults about this now. He’s not having Michael shy off about something so important. He’s hurt. “That sucks, Michael. I thought you trusted me.”

Michael’s eyes snap wide. “I do trust you, what the fuck. How can you say that?”

“How could you keep that from me? It’s not like you kept it from everyone, you kept it from only me.” Ashton shoots back, voice breaking, and he hates looking so weak. Michael’s always made him so soft.

“Didn’t want to upset you.” And that answer isn’t really giving Ashton much. He doesn’t know if that’s responding to Ashton’s clear sadness right now, since he can’t understand why it would upset him that his best friend who had been through so much was going to get help. He’d be worried but he’d be hopeful more than anything, and Ashton thinks Michael’s talking trash. 

But he can see Michael’s getting worked up, thrumming a little as he tries to keep his emotions controlled, and Ashton can’t bear to be the cause of Michael being upset.

“Was it good for you?” Ashton asks instead. Michael nods, enthusiastically enough for the older to know maybe that’s what has played a huge part in his change of attitude.

“Yeah, yeah it was.” Ashton doesn’t say anything in response, but he feels like this is the biggest stab in the back Michael could have ever done to him. He gets up and leaves, feeling like they’re back at square one with nothing resolved.

\---

_August, 2015_

If Ashton knew finding out Michael went to therapy would hit so hard, he’d honestly rather not have known. In this case ignorance really was bliss. 

But it wasn’t the case. Michael had decided to keep it from him, and afterwards even looking at Michael left Ashton a mess. Especially since it was Luke would told Ashton, not even Michael _himself_ , and he could see the guilt in his eyes every time. He tries to keep things normal, climbs onto Ashton like usual but not in the same way as before. Ashton doesn’t want to get upset about it again, but he wants to tell Michael to stop sending him those eyes, because he brought this on himself. Ashton didn’t ask for any of this.

But if Ashton’s being honest, really honest with himself (which he always tries to be), it’s not even the spilled secret that’s hurting him.

It’s the realisation that Ashton isn’t enough. That he couldn’t do everything and the younger boy had to look somewhere else for the support that he would usually give. He knows that sometimes he isn’t going to be enough, that he has to give in and let others run their own course, find themselves, but that hasn’t made it any easier. He's watching Michael smile warm and soft after he’s woken up, and knowing it’s not because he slept in his bunk.

If he wasn’t Michael’s comfort anymore, what was he? 

The latter half of the American leg of their tour is leaving them more and more tired every day, frustrated at anything, and they need each other more constantly than ever to keep sane. It’s not even a big deal that Michael and Ashton are on strange terms, because now they’re all on strange terms; they’ve lived in each other’s pockets for too long, a state of deliriousness and falling asleep in small corners. 

Ashton finds himself wondering what to do, now that the boys don’t need his relentless ordering around because tour routine is pretty set in stone, nor does Michael stick to him like before. He’s always been needed, even before he should have been, and now he finds himself needing something. Missing Michael needing him. It’s _sad_. He wades through the next several dates, kind of holding on but not really, and he does love his life so much but he needs tour to end. Yesterday.

It’s so, so welcome when they get the collective email from their label, and it’s the album all properly, wonderfully, perfectly mastered in mp3 form ready to listen. They get together on their day off and sit on the bus in a circle at the back, lock themselves away from everyone else and plug in the speakers. They don’t talk the entire way through, only jamming along, pumping fists or the occasional wail from Michael when something is especially good. It’s incredible. 

They’re so proud, Ashton can see it in all of their faces, feel it on his own. He even sheds a little tear or two during Broken Home but only Calum notices. He smiles in comfort, and after Ashton’s pulled himself together a bit Calum goes and sits next to him. Ashton leans into his touch, and it’s all smiles after that, even during Invisible when Calum tenses up a little himself. The songs have hit so close to home for all of them.

Carry On makes them all emotional, and Michael crawls into Ashton’s lap, tucks his head under his neck, resting his legs across Calum’s own as well. Luke joins on Calum’s other side, and they sit together in silence for a little because they know things are about to change. The best thing though, it always will be, is that _they_ never will. They, as best friends, touching at their elbows and knees, will never need to think twice about that. It makes it a little easier for Ashton to breathe, reflect, look at Michael when he stares up at him with eyes wide and innocent. He feels his heart drop like every other time. It’s almost comforting to know that feeling won’t change either.

When he listens to the album on his own, Ashton doesn’t even listen to it from the beginning. He goes straight to Airplanes, puts his headphones in and listens to it on repeat.

_Airplanes cut through the clouds like angels can fly, we’ll never die._

It’s special, how everything glows now, like listening to the album gives them this renewed vigour. They go on stage their next dates, feeling alive again and the gigs are amazing. They feel a step ahead again.

_Sirens cut through the night like screams set on fire, rising up higher._

On top of that, Michael finally stops looking at him guiltily. He’s smiling, bright like fire and Ashton thinks it’s beautiful. It’s hopeful too, but Ashton’s not going to get his hopes up again.

He watches Michael shine, laugh louder and feel more. Therapy’s clearly helped, but Ashton thinks the new album promo they’ve started doing has too. Michael’s getting to talk about these things he never has before. He’s conversational in a way Ashton doesn’t think he’s ever seen, and he feels his heart grow fond over the fact that Michael’s doing so well even without him, which he knew he could do, but. It still makes Ashton look away, sometimes, when he wants to be needed. When Michael looks at him like he wants to need him, and Ashton’s so desperate for that look to be true.

_I’ve got something to prove, nothing to lose in this city._

And Airplanes makes so much sense. Michael finding his feet, seeing himself in a completely different place, somewhere new with nothing to lose. Ashton’s so proud. He still wants Michael to need him but this means so much more.

\---

_September, 2015_

Michael kisses Ashton the same day they play Jet Black Heart live for the first time.

The last two weeks of tour are going so fast, and Ashton doesn’t know where each day ends and the next one begins. He’s falling asleep randomly, in the back lounge of the bus or the couch, or wherever there’s flat surface. He’s anticipating the end though, they all are, and they’re running on the last bit of adrenaline they have left before they crash. 

So really he can’t blame Michael for being impulsive. They’ve come off stage, and Ashton can hear his blood pumping in his ears. The crowd response was incredible, even more so than when they first played She’s Kinda Hot and he’s got goosebumps from how loud they sang back, the way Calum hit every single note like a dream, the way Michael sang like every cell in his body depended on it. 

He knows they’re all on the same page, screaming with excitement as they head to the dressing room, and usually at this point Michael will grab a beer and bring it to his lips.

Instead he grabs Ashton.

It happens so fast, Calum and Luke ahead so they don’t even see it, and Michael spins around from where Ashton is lagging behind replaying everything in his head that he doesn’t stop walking. He bumps forward into Michael, grabs him around the waist to catch the impact and Michael loops his arms around Ashton’s neck, brings him in and kisses him hot but gentle, and it’s so quick that when Ashton clocks on Michael’s pulled away looking so very torn that he concludes two things.

1\. Michael definitely didn’t plan that.  
2\. Ashton really should have kissed back.

Michael smiles anyway, unsure but flees to the others and Ashton being Ashton doesn’t bring it up again. Michael doesn’t behave like anything’s changed apart from sending these fleeting glances. Ashton doesn’t either behave differently either. There’s too much going on that Ashton convinces himself he needs to get through the week first. Michael running away suggests he probably didn’t mean much by it, Ashton thinks, and like that he lets it go. 

Even as the days pass Ashton still thinks about it. Every other second.

But the more time that passes the more unsure he is it even happened, and everything is muddling itself in his head to the point he needs out. So he goes and gets his haircut on the second to last day of tour because this is the hard bit, he’s made it but he needs to make it through two more gigs. 

He’s done so many so far that two doesn’t seem like much but it also feels so far away, and he loves this more than anything but he’s tired. His new hair makes him feel a little better though, and even more so when Michael screams murder when he sees him on his return, doesn’t stop running his hands through it. It’s the most contact they’ve had in a while bar their kiss, and Ashton feels like a fucking slave to Michael trying not to groan under his hands. 

They’re alone at some point, Ashton doesn’t know where anyone has gone but he’s feeling stupid and brave, can't stop thinking about their kiss. There's nothing to lose, and in a sense it’s not any different to the way they used to be. He kisses Michael’s jaw, and nose, and the corner of his mouth and it feels so familiar his skin breaks into goosebumps.

Even now though, he won’t admit it, or anything for that matter out loud, because finality has never been his thing. Instead he continues to crave Michael’s attention, denies that he’s a puddle of mess on the floor when Michael shouts out his new haircut on stage that night.

Michael kisses him again when they get off stage, and this time he kisses back.

\---

The end of tour is weird. They’re all lost as for what to do, and Miami doesn’t particularly hold much for Ashton. He and Luke discuss briefly going back to LA before going home, because the thought of going home so soon is a little bit scary. Too much change too soon. They need some downtime beforehand, to collect their thoughts and reflect and live a less routine life again. Mainly sleep.

What he hadn’t realised is that Michael and Calum had the same conversation, except they’re staying in Miami.

Ashton frowns when Michael tells him. They hadn’t had a second of time between promo things and finishing up tour to even talk about their shared kisses (which they pretend aren’t happening but totally are because they keep doing it when no one is looking), so Ashton was looking forward to them going to LA. Except Michael’s not.

He sure as hell can’t beg him to.

“Calum and I want to get our licences, it’s easier here” he shrugs, like it’s nothing that once again they’re going to sweep this under the rug. Ashton’s frown only deepens, and he wants to say something but Luke comes in and that’s that conversation down the drain.

They don’t get a second to themselves again with Ashton and Luke hopping on a plane the next day, and Ashton doesn’t even get to kiss Michael again before he goes.

Instead he has to watch from his phone screen as pictures surface of the two boys food shopping together, going out for walks, and as much as he wishes he’d stayed he wouldn’t have wanted to impede on what is clearly best friend time. So he deals with it. 

Until Luke goes back to Sydney, and spending time with his other friends isn’t enough because the whole time he’s wishing Michael was there, realising he needs Michael just as much, if not more than Michael needs him. He doesn’t know where to start though, how to say it to Michael without scaring him off. In the last few months things between them have been so fragile; he knows it’ll be make or break. So he continues to spend time with friends, annoyingly messages Luke and tries to take his mind off it even though every night he closes his eyes to the same feeling of need.

Ashton just can’t stop thinking about the fact that they’re heading to the UK soon. He thinks about more promo, the album coming out soon, and there’s so much changing that he thinks, well, _maybe it’s time for this to change too_. He’s done with being so afraid.

He doesn’t want to wait another second, or get on another plane without having fixed this, fixed him and Michael. Michael who he should be kissing, should be taking on the world together with, nothing to lose. He doesn’t want to wait anymore and he wants to see the end of this story, the start of their new one. 

More than anything he’s an idiot because Michael’s given him so many chances. But it wasn’t fair, Michael giving him everything, letting Ashton fix him, have one half of caring but not the other half of love. And it makes sense Michael going to find solace someplace else where he wouldn’t get mixed feelings and half-hearted kisses, where he was the most important person and didn’t have to share. 

But they aren’t over, Ashton’s sure of it and he’s going to bring them back to life. He took Michael for granted, but not anymore.

Ashton finally gets back into Sydney, knows Michael only arrived back today too but he finds out Michael’s already home with his parents. 

He almost psyches himself out. He can’t interrupt valuable Clifford time. He knows how much Michael’s parents miss him, their only child away from home all the time, so he sets up in his hotel instead and calls his mum and siblings in for a late lunch. He knows if he stays in his room alone he’ll either fall asleep or worry even more about it, so he distracts himself as best he can.

But if he doesn’t do it now it’s another day wasted, and Ashton’s tired of wasted days.

It’s 10pm when he plucks up the courage to call Michael. It only rings twice before he answers. “Ash.”

“Mikey. Hey.”

“Hey. You home?” Michael’s voice is soft, like he’s comfortable wherever he’s sat and it reminds Ashton of their FaceTime call, Michael tucked in bed with the covers cocooning him.

“Yeah, this morning. I was, um, wandering if you’d come around.” Ashton asks, voice equally gentle but there’s no reply for a while. He holds his breath, because pauses aren’t what he wants to hear.

“I’m spending time with my parents. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” They have promo in the morning, but Ashton knows there won’t be a second of time for conversation this serious. They need to do this now.

“Not really, no.” He replies, and sighs into the phone. “I need to see you.”

“Ash, you sure-” Ashton shakes his head even though Michael can’t see him, cuts him off quickly.

“Come over, please.” Michael’s quiet again, but Ashton can hear his breathing and it reminds him of how long it’s been since he’s seen Michael.

“Okay.” He agrees. “Give me like an hour, just gonna finish this movie with them, yeah?

Ashton murmurs his thanks. “Yeah, take your time. I’ll wait up.”

He’s about to cut off the phone when he hears Michael’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, just need to talk to you.” The curly haired boy replies, scratching at his jaw. 

“Okay.” Michael yawns, promising to see him soon.

It’s not until nearly midnight that Michael shows up at his hotel room door, clutching a four pack of beer under his arm. He’s got his trusty denim jacket on, safety pin beanie pulled on his head and an affectionate smile. It’s only been a couple of weeks but it feels like forever since he’s seen it.

“I didn’t know how serious this talk was going to be so I brought beer just in case.” Michael says, putting it down on the table beside the bed. He kicks off his shoes and coat, and Ashton pulls off the beanie even though Michael whines and rolls his eyes. He runs as hand through Michael’s hair before realising he hasn’t said a word in response.

“I don’t think we’ll need beer.” Ashton chuckles, pulling Michael closer by his wrist. He follows when Ashton’s sits against the pillows on the bed, and they’re sitting side by side. Ashton doesn’t look at Michael, watches as the other boy fiddles with the bracelets on his hands. 

“Are we okay?” Michael asks, and Ashton doesn’t really know what that means. “I mean, that’s what you want to talk about right? I don’t know I just assumed-” Michael rambles, and Ashton grabs his hand and squeezes.

“Um,” Ashton’s at loss for words, and he realises he may have benefitted coming up with a bit of script. He’s not thought this through well enough.

“Or, maybe not?” Michael responds with a dry chuckle. “Is this about something else. I’m such an idiot. Why would we talk about us-”

“Michael stop.” Ashton snaps, and Michael’s mouth seals shut. He looks a bit startled, but Ashton needs to get through the words in his head and all he can hear is Michael’s voice. “I, I missed you.”

“Yeah?” Michael relaxes, eyes sparkling. There’s only the lamp lit in the room, but Michael’s eyes still manage to reflect the rays and they shimmer slightly when he replies. “Missed you too.”

“That’s, good, um,” Ashton responds, and Michael squeezes his hand even though there’s mirth in his eyes. The older boy appreciates that Michael’s intentions are always in the right place, manages to make Ashton so comfortable but tease him at the same time.

“I’m not going to force you to say anything Ash, but you know I’m here. I know things have been messy between us but we always bounce back, you and I. So don’t worry about whatever it is. We’ll be good.” Michael assures, playing with their entwined hands.

“I just,” Ashton sighs, takes his hand from Michael’s to rub at his eyes. “I feel like, I feel like you and I have something so different, you know?”

“We do.” Michael nods, grabbing back Ashton’s hand. It makes them both smile.

“And, and I think that the reason we’re so messy is because we aren’t doing it right.” Ashton rushes out, huffs in relief.

“What?” Michael says, grip loosening. He sits up even more, like he needs all his attention on Ashton. He looks at the older boy in disbelief.

“I’m, I don’t know Mikey. The way I feel about you. I don’t know how to explain it or describe it right now but I know that I want to kiss you. All the time.” Ashton whispers, Michael’s face breaking out into a grin and it makes Ashton keep going. “To make sure you’re okay and happy. And it broke my heart that you didn’t tell me about therapy, but it made me even happier seeing how much better you were. All I care about is seeing you happy.”

Michael stares at Ashton, reading his face carefully before moving. He turns towards Ashton on his hands and knees, slowly placing his hands on Ashton’s shoulders before moving one knee to the other side of Ashton, straddling his lap. “What are you saying Ash?”

Ashton breathes in deep, eyes boring into Michael’s. “I’m saying that I want to kiss you again right now and I need to know if you want to kiss me too.”

Michael’s whole body becomes pliant, falling against Ashton’s as the older boy tugs him even closer. “Of course I fucking do, you’re an idiot.” The kiss is so gentle, the sweetest one they’ve had so far, and Ashton’s sure he’s never made a better decision in his whole life.

When Michael pulls back, pecking Ashton’s mouth several times, he looks a little sombre. “You and Bryana?” Ashton only shrugs. It's enough for Michael though, who proceeds to pull off all their clothes, crawling under the covers in their underwear.

That night is the first time they sleep in the same bed since London, and Ashton’s never felt more at ease having Michael in his arms again.

\---

When Ashton wakes up, Michael’s face is pressed against his neck, peppering small kisses but stopping below his ear before sucking gently, coaxing a soft groan out of Ashton. Michael nibbles a little, enough to warm the skin but not leave a mark and they both smile easily. 

Ashton pulls Michael closer until Michael climbs on top of him, resting his body against Ashton’s until they’re touching head to toe. The older boy huffs out some wheezing laughs because Michael is ultimately the same weight as him, taller even though he has a smaller build, and Michael is definitely leaning on his left lung.

“Wait,” Ashton whispers, manoeuvring a grumbling Michael until he’s in a better position, their bodies lining up perfectly. Ashton smiles happily as Michael nuzzles into his neck, leans his head down as the younger boy turns his face up, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

Ashton leans away, staring at Michael’s mouth. It’s so pretty, red and stark and a little swollen from sleep, and Ashton’s never looked at anyone quite as beautiful as he scans the blonde’s face.

“Morning,” Michael murmurs, slotting their mouths together for another kiss and not letting Ashton pull back this time, leaning on his knees and elbows to get better leverage. Ashton doesn’t know how Michael does it, how he’s literally made of electricity, lighting everything he does up in a matter of seconds. He pushes for more, forcing Ashton to relax into the pillows as he rests his elbows beside his head, biting at Ashton’s lower lip and pulling a low moan out of the boy again.

“Morning.” Ashton returns, grabbing the back of Michael’s neck and dragging him back in, wanting to lead. He squeezes gently and Michael falls apart under his hand, fists grabbing softly at the pillows they’re leaning on, Michael’s mouth open even without prompting. Ashton slides their tongues together, wet and warm and Michael’s already keening. It’s slow but passionate, they’re both still soft with sleep and Michael’s purring into Ashton’s mouth is making him hot all over.

Ashton’s about to pull away, tell Michael they could chance another hour of sleep before they’ll have to get up and do some promo, but Michael’s hips lower, knees sliding down and Ashton gasps softly into his mouth as their hips connect. Michael doesn’t move, lets them press flush together and rests against Ashton like he’s waiting for permission. Michael’s not hard but he’s not soft either, and they have nothing but the boxers they slept in between them so Ashton can feel everything. His dick stirs in his boxers, body warm.

They’re both panting into each other’s mouths, not kissing but sharing breaths, and Ashton lets his eyes roam over Michael’s face who’s watching him with equal intensity.

“Mike.” Ashton starts. He doesn’t know how to go about this. A small part of his head is saying no, but the rest of his body wants to grab Michael’s ass and grind. He can’t even _think_. 

Michael kisses down Ashton’s jaw and back up before stealing a kiss to his mouth. “Want you, Ash.”

“We should talk first.” The curly haired boy says, and it’s taking everything in him to keep himself still.

“About what?” Michael retorts, rolling his eyes when Ashton sends him a lofty stare. “ _What we are_?” The tone is mocking, and it’s so typically Michael to make fun of Ashton wanting to validate they’re both on the same page in their, what? Relationship? It’s why they need to talk.

“Mike.” Ashton repeats, exasperated and still out of breath, but Michael knows what he’s about to say and presses a sweet kiss to his lips to keep him shut. Ashton doesn’t appreciate that he keeps doing that but he kisses back eagerly anyway, loving the warmth of Michael’s mouth. Their tongues move together so well, like they’ve been doing this forever and Ashton can help but slip a hand into Michael’s hair. The younger pulls away, hand reaching up the stroke Ashton’s jaw. Ashton leans into the touch and just like that he’s silent, waiting for Michael to speak.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. We’re us. We’ve always been us that’s why we work. We’ve never questioned us before so why should we be unsure now?” Michael whispers, and his hips thrust a little, and Ashton chokes on what he was about to say. They haven’t done anything and it feels so good already. Ashton’s worked up, panting, and he wonders if it’s only because it’s Michael.

He knows that the younger boy’s making sense, although they have been unsure about each other before. Even if it was when they started realising that there may have been more going on than they initially thought. Now they’ve realised it feels like everything is right in the universe, like it’s always felt with Michael even when everything else felt like hell. Ashton wants to give Michael this the same way he’s always given him everything.

“Fuck it,” Ashton whispers, and Michael smiles so wide, so beautiful that for a second Ashton’s feels a little blindsided. The way Michael makes him feel always surprises him. 

He ignores that though, slides his other hand into Michael’s hair and pulls their mouths together. Michael spreads his thighs so he has more space and Ashton doesn’t waste any time, rocks his hips up as heat washes over them both. Michael makes the first noise he’s made all morning then, a sweet whimper that makes Ashton’s stomach drop and he doesn’t stop after that, streams of high moans leaving him every move. 

Their hips lock, Ashton’s moving up as Michael’s move down, and his mind is _liquid_. After a while they don’t even kiss, Michael’s face pressed against Ashton’s neck, hot breaths tickling as they pick up pace. Ashton feels the tiny patches of wet in his boxers, doesn’t know if the slick is coming from him or Michael, thinks it’s probably both of them if their wet gasps are anything to go by.

“ _Fuck_ , so good.” Michael breathes, the end trailing off into a whine. Ashton’s hands drop to his ass, pushing harder, air around them growing thick and hot. Michael’s breath hitches, moving quick and needy and Ashton is gone, knows he could happily do this forever. He thinks he could be in heaven, low, guttural moan leaving his mouth as Michael rolls his hips particularly hard, but the broken whine that escapes the pale boy confirms it. 

“Stop, stop, shit.” Michael rasps, voice already fucked and Ashton has to dig his fingers into soft skin harshly before he gets his bearings, hears Michael’s request.

“What? You okay?” Ashton’s voice is wrecked too, and Michael moans in response as he unclenches his hands from the pillows, sits up so and shuffles so he’s straddling the older boy.

“Want you to fuck me.” Michael’s voice is a whisper, and Ashton shivers, grip on his ass tightening.

“Michael, we can’t. We have promo in a couple of hours. They’ll come and get us any second.” Ashton replies, voice shaky. He wants it, he really does but they’re cutting it way too fine. He lets his hands slide up, caressing Michael’s thighs before moving up to his stomach. He rubs gently, and it makes Michael shudder and hum gratefully.

“And they’ll wait, because I’m not leaving here until you fuck me.” Michael responds, hips circling on Ashton’s dick. He grins and it’s filthy, and Ashton can’t help the pathetic noise that leaves his mouth. “I’m not even kidding. I want you. Right now, Ash.”

“Michael,” Ashton shakes his head, and Michael leans down to kiss him again but hovers, lips brushing but not fully touching. He closes his eyes, and Ashton can see his eyelids flickering a little as his large hands move down to Michael’s ass again. Michael’s lips break into a smile but it’s weak, and he bites his lip, nibbling as his eyes open again. Ashton’s breath hitches because Michael looks incredible, eyes hooded, sensual and innocent all at once.

“Please, Ash.” He begs, hips thrusting gently. “Thought about it for so long, all those nights I used to crawl into your bed. Used to think about you flipping me over and pressing me into the mattress. God,” Ashton feels Michael’s dick twitch, rock hard, and his own respond. Their boxers are a mess and Ashton feels 15 with the way Michael’s making him feel. “I’d get so hot thinking about you, right next to me, breathing on my neck and you didn’t even know what you were doing to me. I needed you so bad sometimes, I’d leave and go back to my room to take the edge off, come back and you’d still be there sleeping, even after I’d come all over myself.”

Ashton’s back arches, lips pressing against Michael’s throat. The pale boy simpers in reply of Ashton’s response. “Michael, fucking stop.”

“I need you. Please.” Michael pleads, voice soft but still wrecked, hips moving again.

“I just-,” and Michael must hear the desperate tone in Ashton’s voice because he stops, pulls back curiously. “I want this to be right.” Michael sits up again, still straddling and searches Ashton’s face.

“That’s okay.” Michael nods, hands roaming Ashton’s chest. He tweaks his nipple and Ashton moans so loud he has to bite his lip to stop it. “We can do it properly now, I promise.”

Ashton nods, sliding his hands underneath Michael’s waistband, and the boy shivers and shuffles as best he can to help pull them down. The tip of Michael’s dick is glistening wet as it comes free, slaps against his stomach, and Ashton’s mouth drops open because it’s as pretty as the rest of him. He wants it in his mouth.

“You too.” Michael asks, helping Ashton out, and as soon he pulls the boxers past the older boys knees he’s back between his legs, their hips flush again and it’s different now, so much more intense and hot and _slick_ that Ashton doesn’t even want to move, sure he’ll come after one thrust of their hips. He kicks both boxers off the bed.

Michael has other plans though and starts up where they left off, ruts desperate and hard. Ashton chokes on a moan, body prickling with heat as he grabs Michael’s thighs and flips them over, hitching up one of his legs up so the angle changes and it’s so _good_ Michael’s back arches, pitiful whimpers leaving both their lips. “We keep going like this I’m going to come all over myself.” Michael chuckles, but it’s out of breath and low and heat pools at the bottom of Ashton’s stomach. 

Ashton lowers himself down to Michael, lips brushing his ear before biting softly and Michael lets out a whine, hips still chasing after Ashton’s, whispers “I’ll still fuck you anyway.”

The groan Michael lets out is so raw that Ashton’s sure he’s about to come, but Michael’s hands reach for Ashton’s shoulders as he pushes him away. “Need you, right now.” Michael’s eyes are wide as he watches Ashton push back on his knees, lips wet as the younger guy watches him hungrily, eyes roaming from his chest and flickering down to his cock, solid against his stomach. “Do you have anything? Hurry, please,” Michael begs when Ashton nods. The curly haired boy leans off his bed to grab at the suitcase, dragging it closer and sliding his hand into the inside pocket and grabbing both lube and condom.

Ashton leans down between Michael’s legs, looking up at him as his head is bracketed between pale thighs. They’re beautiful, soft and glowing and Ashton has never wanted to ruin anything more.

He pops open the cap wordlessly, coating three fingers with a liberal amount of lube, pressing kisses against his hip making Michael hum.

“You done this before?” Michael asks, smile soft like he knows the answer.

“Nope,” Ashton snorts, but he knows the in’s and out’s enough from incognito internet searches and Michael never being quiet about his own sex life. “You worried?”

“Never with you.” He mumbles, hips lifting off the bed. “Just go easy.”

Ashton takes this as permission, shuffling closer and Michael spreads his legs a little wider. Ashton’s face to face with a cock, pretty and leaking and red and _Michael’s_ , and he’s never been this close but he can’t freak out. He doesn’t want to, he’s done enough of that for a lifetime. He doesn’t think about it as he licks a stripe from balls to tip, sucking gently as Michael gasps for air. He leans away and blows as Michael leaks more, his eyes roaming down as wet fingers trail closer to Michael’s hole until he’s tapping gently, circling it until pale hips jerk up, and Ashton can hear Michael’s breath quicken.

“Please,” Michael pants, and Ashton gives in as his index finger pushes past the rim.

“Fuck,” Ashton whispers, as the muscles give way and stop at the first knuckle, and Ashton’s so enthralled he almost misses the small rocking of Michael’s hips, the soft sound. 

“Keep going.” Michael whines, and Ashton slides the finger further in. Michael’s so tight around his one finger Ashton’s can’t even imagine how it’s going to feel around his dick. “Not this gentle, fuck. Come on.” 

Ashton does as he’s told, pumps his finger in and out at a steady but slow pace, watching Michael writhe with wide eyes. Ashton’s never felt this hot in his whole life.

He pulls his finger out, pushes back in with two and watches Michael’s hands scramble for something to hold. They reach down for his hair, and Ashton chuckles as Michael pulls softly. 

“Yeah, _Ash_ ,” Michael’s voice is hoarse, and Ashton curls his finger, three times before Michael’s mouth drops open and he lets out a low cry, hips fucking down on Ashton’s fingers.

“You good babe?” Ashton asks, once he’s got a third finger in, and he’s set out a rhythm that has Michael’s hips riding on his fingers, bottom lip bitten raw and hands still pulling on Ashton’s hair. He’s whimpering relentlessly and it’s shameless, loud and high and Ashton can tell Michael’s going to come too soon as he scissors his fingers then curls them perfectly.

“So, so good, your fingers are phenomenal.” Michael pants, and Ashton leans down to leave a bruise on Michael’s pale thighs, bites a little harsh and lets his tongue flick out to soothe the skin. He likes the red mark so much he leaves a few more, three on each thigh and Michael’s sobbing by the time he’s done, hand grabbing on Ashton’s wrist. He rubs his cheek on his thighs, enjoying the way he pulls back to see the skin glow red from his stubble. Michael’s skin ruins so easily.

“Ash, want you, please.” Michael whines, and Ashton nods, always wanting to give Michael what he wants, needs, and his stomach bottoms out in anticipation knowing in a couple of minutes he’s going to be inside Michael. His heart comes up and for a second, he hesitates, but Ashton looks at Michael and knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

“You sure you’re ready?” He questions, looking down at his cock, deep red and hard enough that he knows it’ll hurt a little to put on the condom, and Michael smirks down at him like he knows what a mess he’s made of Ashton. He’s proud, and Ashton can’t wait to fuck that expression off his face.

“I’m good, please.” Ashton realises more and more that Michael’s not afraid to beg, and it turns him on more than anything. He grabs the condom, pumps his dick a little before he tears it open and rolls it on slowly.

Ashton grabs Michael’s hips, leans down and pulls him into a heated kiss. He’s missed kissing Michael for these last minutes and he doesn’t want to stop. “How do you want to do this?” He asks, rubbing hands over Michael’s soft hips. He looks beautiful, laid before him with wide eyes, practically black with arousal and bottom lip bitten so red and puffy. His skin is glowing like silver now the sun’s coming up more and he’s the most beautiful person Ashton will ever see, especially like this. He’s sure of it.

“Wanna ride you but I’m still tired,” Michael laughs, and Ashton loves that even now Michael’s so comfortable with him to giggle during sex. It’s incredible. He’s incredible. “Like this.”

“Okay. Gonna fuck you now.” Ashton whispers, and Michael’s eyes slip closed as he nods, bottom lip trapped as he wraps his arms around Ashton’s neck. Ashton grabs his dick, pulls back a bit so he can watch as he positions himself and rubs hotly over Michael entrance. Michael’s breathing speeds up, eyes opening and all Ashton sees is pure desire and so much need so he guides himself inside, chokes as the head pushes past the muscle and he stops to catch his breath.

Michael’s silent, and Ashton hadn’t realised he’d shut his eyes until he opens them, Michael’s mouth open with just a hint of smile. “Mikey, baby.” Ashton gasps out, hips moving in a little more. Ashton’s so out of his depth here.

There are teeth in his shoulder suddenly, and Ashton watches as Michael nods furiously. “Go on, more, I need it.” And Ashton doesn’t need to be told twice as he sinks in so slow it’s agonising, but Michael’s mouth drops open more and Ashton knows it’s worth it, getting to watch him fall apart like this.

“You’re filling me up so good.” Michael groans when Ashton pushes in to the hilt, looking down at Michael.

“You feel amazing, Mikey.” Ashton says, low and amazed, pressing his body tight against Michael. Michael’s legs part even wider, bracketing Ashton better and a whimper falls from Michael’s lips as his hips thrust gently. 

“Shit,” Michael gasps, eyes squeezing shut. “Can’t believe how good you feel. Not gonna last long,” Michael nods as permission, so Ashton pulls out and the breath is knocked out of them both when Ashton rocks back in. “Fuck, just go for it babe. Fuck me.”

Michael still lets out a whine in shock when Ashton thrusts back in harder than before, and Ashton pulls back to watch his face as he starts to build up a rhythm, fucking him quickly, holding onto his hips. 

He can’t get his head around how amazing Michael looks like this, just taking everything Ashton’s giving him, weak but obscene noises falling from his mouth. Pleasure snakes through him, hot and unbearable and he knows he’s not going to last for much longer either.

“You feel so big, Ash.” Michael moans, pulling Ashton down for a wet kiss, mouths barely moving. “Pinning me down,” Their eyes lock, and Ashton’s breath is knocked away again as Michael’s back arches off the bed, hips fucking back more as Ashton thrusts steady and quick.

“Fuck,” Ashton growls, keeping Michael’s hips pinned at the slight angle, thrusting his own harder and watching as Michael grasps for something to hold on, mouth open but nothing spilling out.

The blonde bites at swollen red lips, desperate as a slew of curses leave his mouth. “Right there baby, fuck it’s so good, so good.” He’s trying to roll his hips but Ashton keeps hold, not letting Michael move an inch.

Ashton’s body heats up even more if at all possible as groans leave him every thrust, listening to the words that don’t stop leaving Michael mouth, chants of his name and “yes, yes,” over and over and Ashton keeps hitting that same spot inside him, and Ashton hopes he’s making Michael feel as good as it seems. 

“Yes, just like that” Michael moans, fingers digging into Ashton’s shoulders as Ashton’s grip loosens and he starts to roll his hips, eyes rolling back as he moves faster, encouraging Ashton to keep up as his hands slide down to Ashton’s ass, pulling him in more. Ashton can’t describe how it makes him feel, Michael trying to take charge like this and he’s so turned on that he fucks in harder, hitting Michael’s prostate again and again. 

“Yeah? Like that? Fuck, you’re still so tight.” Ashton responds, takes Michael’s hips and presses them down to the bed again, and Michael moans so loud he’s sure whoever is next door can hear them for definite now. He wonders if Michael knows how needy his whines sound, how hot they’re making Ashton feel.

“Ash, please, please, I’m gonna come, don’t stop.” The younger boy rasps, and Ashton leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s so familiar, so beautiful and Ashton wants to cry with how good this feels, wouldn’t be surprised if he already is. The feeling is so hot and it’s penetrating right into his bones. 

There’s warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach, and he can feel it so close now, the white heat that’s going to take over any second. He takes Michael’s leg and hooks it around his hip, places a hand by Michael’s head and he’s relentless, Michael’s fingers dragging red lines across his back, far from gentle. The room is a mist of sweat and heat and Ashton’s never had sex like this in his entire life.

“Didn’t think this could get any better, fucking hell Ash.” Michael whispers, and it’s clear he’s so close from how he’s just taking it now, body loose, moans leaving his throat wrecked like he can’t control them. “Don’t even need you to touch me and I’m so close. Gonna come so hard.” Michael murmurs and Ashton whines in response, body snapping even deeper, chasing his finish.

“You wanna come for me babe?” Ashton grunts, Michael nods desperately, throat working, and he’s completely gone in a few thrusts, back leaving the bed as clenches around Ashton, whimpers high into Ashton’s chest as come spurts between them. “Come on, so beautiful Mike.”

Michael’s hips continue to circle as he rides out his high, still gasping with his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, Ash, wanna feel it. Yeah that’s it,” and Michael begging him to come, mouth wet against his throat is _too much_ , enough to send him over, white noise and vision blurring bright as it feels like it doesn’t stop, bolts of pleasure too good to handle. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ , Michael.” Ashton sobs, hips crashing forward and twitching until he slumps against Michael. The younger boy pulls him in and leaves sweet kisses all over his face until Ashton comes to, body giving out under his weight. 

Smiling softly, Michael pets at Ashton’s hair until Ashton nuzzles at Michael’s throat, bites softly and sucks a bruise in to distract while pulls back a little so he can pull out. Michael lets a gentle noise in protest but settles against the bed, content and Ashton rids himself of the condom and cleans their stomachs as best he can with one of their boxers.

Michael pulls him in once he’s done, tight against his side and guiding his face to his own with one finger and grins happily, loose limbed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Michael always surprises Ashton with how beautiful his looks, and it’s no different post-sex as he keens under his stare, pressing his lips against Ashton’s own. They pull away from the soft kiss, and time passes with them doing just that, sharing sweet little pecks as their bodies come down.

“To think that was only our first time.” Michael sing songs, voice still raspy and Ashton laughs and rolls his eyes before humming appreciatively as Michael’s hands roaming his back. They’re gently caressing the slightly raises marks from Michael’s nails. The look of pride is back when their eyes meet again and Michael giggles, letting his fingers trace all over Ashton’s body, admiration in his eyes.

“Are you good though, I did okay?” Ashton whispers, doesn’t want to let his insecurities show but he always needs Michael’s reassurance.

Michael holds his face in his hands, tiny fingers soft against Ashton’s stubbled jaw. “Amazing baby. Really good.” Michael promises, eyes easy and grin playful. Ashton’s definitely whipped. “You really know how to use that thing.” Ashton shakes his head, chuckling weakly.

“You always take care of me perfectly, Ash.” Michael murmurs, and it sounds an apology. Ashton nods in response, kisses Michael’s shoulder and it feels like a little like he’s healing.

If they ignore when Luke comes knocking a few minutes later, continuing to share soft touches and warm kisses, no one has to know.

\---

Promo is torture.

It’s not his fault, except it kind of is. It’s not noticeable unless you _know_ but Michael’s walking a little weird and Ashton can’t help but watch him waddle slightly, remind himself of how good it felt to be inside him only hours ago. How when they showered together after Luke came back a second time, Michael made Ashton finger him open until he came with a strangled cry. 

So Michael’s not helping. He won’t leave his side any moment he doesn’t need to and he knows they keep giving each other these stupid eyes. Calum’s caught on quickly, narrowing his own at them every time they make a noise and when he realises Michael’s in Ashton’s shirt. Luke definitely has too, even though it takes him a little longer. 

Ashton wants to say he has even a bit of self-control but he definitely doesn’t if Michael has anything to do with it. He keeps pulling him back into his chest whenever they have a moment, and he tries to keep it playful in case of the radio people fussing around but he’s sure it’s not any weirder than their usual antics. It makes Ashton realise how long they’ve been like this, like a pair, and he feels his heart swell.

It’s only when Michael tries to steal a kiss when he thinks no one is looking that Calum stomps over, calling Luke to attention as he joins in on staring at the two boys sat on the sofa. Ashton’s sure the look on his face is very deer in headlights, whereas Michael looks defiant, eyes not breaking contact with Calum’s as they speak without words. No one else is in the dressing room with them, but they know that won’t be for long so Calum doesn’t waste time beating around the bush. Like he would anyway.

“Did you fuck?” He asks, and Ashton chokes on air as Michael squares his shoulders up.

“Yup.” Michael responds, smug as he fixes the sleeves of his denim jacket.

“Mikey!” Ashton wails, face falling into his hands and he hears Luke sniggering to his right.

“Is that why you ignored me this morning? Naughty,” Luke replies teasingly, and Ashton wants to _die_. He whines into his hands, and the rest of the boys laugh at what he knows are his ears turning bright red.

“Well I wasn’t going to lie, Ash.” Michael pats his head. “We did. How did you even know?” Michael directs at Calum, eyes suspicious.

“Hickey the size of Everest on your neck. Also saw the multiple other mountains on your thigh-” Calum calls out but Ashton’s heard more than enough by then, yells in response to cut off the rest of the sentence. Ashton knew Michael flaunting himself getting changed in front of the other boys was a huge mistake. 

“Okay, shut up, we get it. Yes, we fucked, yes I love him, it’s all good.” It’s not until he doesn’t hear any more laughter that he realises what he’s said, and the red moves from his ears to his whole face as he watches Calum and Luke’s stunned faces. He turns to Michael.

The overhead light catching the blonde of Michael’s hair makes him look angelic, and Ashton’s sure his eyes are glassier than usual when he opens his mouth. He closes it again, unsure before he speaks. “You mean that?” He whispers, and Ashton nods, ignores Calum and Luke’s fake gagging as Michael promises “I love you too” in return, kisses him but not very well because they’re both smiling too hard. 

Calum gives him this look later on, like “don’t fuck this up”. Ashton doesn’t even need to be told verbally and he certainly doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s fucked up before but not again. Not with Michael, and he thinks Calum gets that when he smiles in response, ruffling Ashton’s hair. He hopes Luke does too.

Later in the car they’re way to the next radio show and Michael stares out the window at their hometown, watching it flash past. This time they’re sharing headphones too. 

Airplanes is playing because Ashton let Michael pick the songs, and Michael turns and kisses the corner of his mouth while they listen to Luke’s voice singing about love lost and buried coming to life. Ashton feels like he’s got his second chance. He feels more than ever that he’s got nothing to lose, his band of best friends and a love for life. That’s all he’s ever needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for getting this far :') Please come and cry in my askbox or IM on [tumblr](http://airplenes.tumblr.com/) I'm very willing to talk about this! Comments, kudos and any kind of feedback means the world, ily all ty ty


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